


Choose Me

by madisonlawson



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Actress Clarke, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hollywood, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canonical Character Death, Clexa, F/F, Famous Clarke, Hollywood, famous au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-19 02:59:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11304333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madisonlawson/pseuds/madisonlawson
Summary: “I’ve just… never seen someone with so much fire in their eyes.”“You’ve known some pretty dull people, then.”In which Clarke is a famous actress and Lexa ignores her advances until she can't any longer. Clarke's past haunts her and Lexa's future taunts her, all while the world is watching with baited breath.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is beta read by @ayakaspencer on tumblr, thankfully! 
> 
> I will update at least once a week! Feel free to leave questions, comments, and anything else down in the comments! I'm excited for this story to unfold. 
> 
> Warning: mention of a canonical death.

Lexa Woods zips up her jacket and climbs in her car, feeling the morning air refresh her. She glances down at her watch and upon noticing the early hour of six a.m., decides she has enough time before work to grab a cup of coffee.

The LA streets are cluttered with cars, despite the early hour. Lexa turns her music on loud as she drives, hoping to drown out the sound of incessant honking, Thankfully, just as the frustration starts to burn in her throat, Lexa pulls into a parallel spot outside of her favorite coffee shop.

“Good morning, Miss Woods,” the barista behind the counter greets.

Lexa smiles in return. “Morning, Emori. How are you?”

The young girl shrugs. “Fine. Trying not to complain.”

“Sometimes that’s harder than it sounds,” Lexa says, chuckling.

“Your usual?”

“Yes, please,” Lexa hands over her card to pay, leaning against the counter. As Emori accepts, the rest of the guests in the building start murmuring. Lexa frowns, turning to discover the cause of the commotion.

Outside, a large, slick black vehicle pulls against the curb. Following closely are multiple reporters and paparazzi holding flashing cameras.

“It’s the actress!” Emori exclaims, handing Lexa’s card back. She watches the scene outside unfold with deep fascination.

Lexa turns to see a woman with long, wavy blonde hair wearing a fitted black dress step out of the car.

“Who?” Lexa asks, turning back to Emori.

“Her name is Clarke. She’s in those new dystopian movies.”

“Oh…” Lexa mutters.

“Lexa, you have to watch more T.V.,” Emori says, handing Lexa her coffee.

“Ah,” She holds up the cup, grinning. “No, I don’t.”

Emori rolls her eyes as Lexa makes her way to the only free table, a long one in the back of the room. She sits at the farthest seat, next to the wall and watches Clarke.

The blonde girl is followed by a taller man as she enters the coffee shop. Her shadow keeps all the paparazzi out of the building, herding the crowd away from Clarke. He stations himself by the door as the girl walks up to the cash register. Lexa watches with fascination as Emori struggles to keep calm while taking Clarke’s order. After paying, she turns to scan the room. Lexa doesn’t avert her gaze before Clarke is able to catch it, tilting her head slightly.

Deciding she’s seen enough, Lexa looks away and pulls a book out of her bag. She tucks one leg underneath and props the book up as she reads.

“Excuse me.”

Lexa looks up, finding Clarke standing on the other side of the table.

“Do you mind?” Clarke asks, gesturing to one of the free chairs.

“Of course not. Go ahead,” Lexa answers.

Clarke sits and sips her drink. She doesn’t offer any more greetings to Lexa, which she appreciates. Lexa glances over to notice everyone in the coffee shop is looking at them, as well as a growing crowd outside. Some try to enter but the man, probably Clarke’s bodyguard, doesn’t allow them.

“What if someone just wants coffee?” Lexa asks, breaking their moment of silence. She turns to Clarke to find the other girl frowning in confusion. Lexa points to the front door. “Your bodyguard won’t let anyone in. What if someone just wants coffee? Suddenly it’s their unlucky day?”

Clarke looks in the direction Lexa points, her frown remaining. “Yeah… But Bellamy is trained to notice the difference between an innocent bystander and paparazzi.”

“And fans?”

Lexa nods, wishing she never brought it up in the first place. She returns to her book and only is able to read a paragraph before Clarke speaks again.

“What’s your name?”

“Lexa,” she says, eyes not leaving her book.

“No last name?”

Lexa looks up then, eyes furrowed. “Why do you want to know my last name?”

“Sorry… Never mind.”         

“No, it’s okay. It’s Woods.“

“Lexa Woods. That’s beautiful.”

A blush instantly spreads across Lexa’s cheeks, much to her horror. She takes a long drink of her coffee in an effort to cover it up, but Clarke already notices. She smiles and leans forward.

“What do you do, Miss Woods?”

“I’m a program analyst for local government but want to run for office some day.”

Clarke widens her eyes and nods. “Very cool! What party?”

Lexa groans. “All the parties are stupid.”

“I agree but they’re our options.”

“Which is why I’m with the democratic party.”

“That’s how I vote, too,” Clarke says, grinning slightly.

Lexa smiles in return before turning to notice the other guests in the building seem to be getting closer. She even notices two younger girls standing near their table, watching curiously. Lexa nods in their direction and Clarke turns.

The star stands up and approaches the girls. “Hi, girls. I’m having coffee now but is there anything I can sign.”

The shorter girl shakes her head but says, “I just wanted to say hi.”

Clarke holds out her hand. “Hello.”

The girl grabs her hand and shakes it. Lexa takes the moment to return to her book, thinking all the excitement had to die down soon. But then more people start to crowd around Clarke. Lexa groans and gathers her stuff, deciding to head to the office early where there she’ll at least have some peace.

Clarke catches her as she’s walking though and leaves the group of people. Lexa stands near the front door, glaring at the paparazzi that now point their cameras at her.

“Wait, Lexa,” Clarke says, grabbing Lexa’s shoulder.

Lexa turns to the girl expectantly.

“I know we didn’t get to talk much but I’d love if we got another chance.”

“I’m pretty busy,” Lexa answers flatly.

“Just thirty minutes one day, please.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“I know. And I don’t expect you to say yes because of my job or my…”

“Fame?”

Clarke shrugs sheepishly as if embarrassed. “Yeah. But I find you interesting. And… incredibly stunning.”

The compliment takes Lexa back and she lets her lips open slightly. She can’t deny that Clarke, too, is one of the most beautiful girls she’s ever seen, but still, she shakes her head. “Thank you. But my answer is still no.”

Clarke frowns but doesn’t show any sign of giving up.

“Why?” Lexa asks finally.

“I’ve just… never seen someone with so much fire in their eyes.”

“You’ve known some pretty dull people, then.”

Clarke chuckles. “Maybe, but you’re so much more. I don’t know why, but I have to know more. Please let me take you out.”

Lexa frowns at the blonde girl in front of her. She turns to the side, staring out the window of her favorite coffee shop. Dozens of cameras and eyes peer through, watching their exchange. Lexa shakes her head. “No, thank you.” Ignoring Clarke’s pleading gaze, Lexa heads out the door. She’s instantly surrounded by dozens of reporters, screaming questions at her. Struggling, she pushes through them and into her car.

“What’s your name?” “How do you know Clarke Griffin?” “What did she ask you?” “Are you having an affair with the star?” “Do you love her?”

At the last question, Lexa glares at the reporters and answers, “I don’t even know her,” before speeding away.

*          *          *

“Clarke!”

“Miss Griffin!”

“Give us a smile!”

“Can I have an autograph?”

“Clarke!”

Suddenly, Clark’s coffee loses all of its taste. Lexa opens the door and dozens of voices hit her at once. She drops her nearly full cup in the trash and spins in place. A man smiles at her, paparazzi yells from outside and girls of all ages look at her with their eyes wide. Clarke watches Lexa’s car drive off, taking all hope with her. Clarke frowns, walking up to Bellamy.

“Did you see her?” she asks.

Bellamy smirks slightly but keeps his steady behavior. He doesn’t remove his attention from the front door, always poised for the unexpected.

“Talk to me.”

Bellamy stays silent and Clarke rolls her eyes. Behind her, the crowd grows closer and outside it doubles in size.

Clarke sighs, “Let’s go.”

Bellamy nods in recognition and wraps his arm around Clarke, grabbing her shoulder. Bracing herself for the barrage of people, Clarke follows Bellamy outside. The shouting and flashing of cameras is instant. She wonders what Lexa thought as her privacy was violated for simply being seen near Clarke.

Bellamy shields the star from paparazzi as she climbs into the back of the car. He closes the door behind her, causing the voices to become muffled behind the darkened glass. A few moments after, Bellamy slides in next to her and taps on the glass separating them from the front seat.

“All good, Wallace.”

Dropping her head against the window, Clarke takes an exaggerated sigh.

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “You’re pathetic.”  

Clarke rolls her head to the side to stare at Bellamy. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”        

“I hate that you don’t talk to me in public.”          

Bellamy holds his finger in the air. “Only when I’m working. You know I have to stay completely focused, Clarke.”

Clarke groans. “This is why you’re not my main bodyguard. You suck.”

“I’m good at my job,” Bellamy argues.

“Too good,” Clarke responds, frowning.

“Damn, Clarke. Who was this girl?”

She turns back to the window, crossing her arms. “I don’t know, B. She was so… sure. It’s like nothing in the world could touch her.”

“And you wanted to be the exception?” Bellamy interrupts, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Clarke shakes her head. “I don’t think I could.”

“You don’t know her, Clarke.”

“Maybe, but you don’t know anyone until you do.”

“Deep shit.”

Clarke slaps Bellamy’s chest, causing her friend to laugh. He rubs the spot as if it hurt, frowning at Clarke. She returns the scowl before pulling her feet up into the seat and slouching back. She takes a deep sigh and closes her eyes.

“I’m tired, B,” she says.

“I know. But you only have two months of filming left.”

“And then marketing starts and I’ll have a million photo-shoots and interviews to do. And then I start recording for that freaking secret album I didn’t even sign up for. And then filming for the next one starts and then the fashion show I’m already scheduled to sing for and then I bet they’ll pitch a tour or some shit. Bell,” she takes a deep breath and turns to Bellamy, her face soft. “It’s never going to end.”

He looks at her with caring eyes, showing more concern for her nonstop lifestyle than anyone ever has. Especially Abby.

Bellamy reaches over and grabs Clarke’s hand, squeezing it tight. “It will, Clarke. You’ll rest and be happy.”

Suddenly, Clarke’s eyes start to heat up. “When does Octavia get back from her trip?”

Bellamy roles his eyes and shrugs. “Who knows? Once my sister starts going it’s hard to pull her away from a trek. I think she’s in Switzerland right now.”       

“I’m ready for her to be home.”

“Me too.”

At that moment, the window separating them from Wallace rolls down and the driver says, “We’re home, ma’am.”

Clarke shakes her head and pulls her knees to her chest, pushing her forehead against them. Tears start to form in her eyes as she takes deep breaths, pushing them back and fighting against the lump in her throat.

Bellamy scoots across the seat and puts his hand on her back. “Let’s go see him, Wallace,” he says.

“Yes, sir.” The window rolls back up and the car continues to drive. Clarke and Bellamy sit in silence for ten minutes before it stops again. He keeps his hand on Clarke’s back, breathing with her in a practiced way. Five minutes pass before she raises her head and nods. Bellamy follows her out of the car, scanning the area quickly to be sure they’re alone. Wallace stands outside of the vehicle as Bellamy and Clarke walk through the graveyard.

They stop in front of a small headstone that already has weeds sprouting up around it. Clarke takes a deep breath as she falls to her knees in front of it.

"Hi, Dad,” she chokes, tears instantly falling down her cheeks. She wipes them away quickly and takes a struggled breath. “I met a girl today,” she tells the grey headstone. “I didn’t get to talk to her for long but she seemed a lot like you. Remember when I got my first acting job and you told me, ‘Clarke, don’t you get a big head, now. You’re still a huge nerd,” Clarke laughs before wiping away more tears and sniffing hard. “I need you, Dad.” Clarke buries her face in her hands, taking multiple shallow breaths before continuing. “Meeting Lexa made me think I was ready,” she shrugs, “to, uh, have someone again. Ever since Finn…” she chokes again, breathing through the tears that continue to fall. “I don’t know, Dad. It might be hopeless. Finn might have been it for me. And now that he’s gone, I–” she pauses, breathing deep. Unable to finish the thought, she shakes her head, mutters, “I love you,” and stands up.

Bellamy instantly wraps his arm around her shoulders and leads her back to the car. They climb in and she curls into his side, crying hard as they drive. He doesn’t even mind the snot and tears wetting his new shirt. 


	2. Chapter 2

Lexa sits in the back of the meeting room, scribbling out notes about budget cuts and losses. Instantly, she notices wiggle room with the new budget and areas possible of salvation. She smiles to herself as she thinks of the problem solving ahead. She imagines which departments will put up a fight and which deserve not to be cut. Her smile turns into a frown thinking about what will be lost while she’s saving something else.

 

She takes a deep breath and tells herself she will be the analyst to fix this issue. She’ll be noticed and her future will grow brighter.

 

_Brighter._

 

With no warning, an image of shining blue eyes pops into Lexa’s mind. She tries to ignore them but they stare into her deeply, filled with concern. The eyes smile, causing Lexa to grin, letting herself get lost in the vision.

 

“Miss Woods?”

 

Lexa jumps, looking up at her boss. She swallows hard, struggling to look past Clarke’s eyes.

“Yes, sir?” Lexa asks.

 

“I’d like you to take lead on this.”

 

Excitement blooms in Lexa’s chest, though mixed with a tinge of anxiety. She nods quickly and says, “Of course.”

 

“Alright, dismissed,” the older man packs up and leaves the meeting.

 

Lexa stands, addressing those remaining. “Alright Clint and John,” she points to two men, “research the departments and where they’re spending money. You,” she gestures to a woman around her age, “put together the data for me in graphs.” The woman nods and Lexa grins, “I love physical representations of data,” she says, almost to herself. The men chuckle and Lexa scowls at them. “I want to see this matter from every angle. Bring me your information tomorrow by five.” The team nods and Lexa dismisses them before retiring to her own small office.

 

She sits in her old chair, staring at the blank screen. She takes a breath and types out ‘Economic supply and demand’ before rolling her eyes and erasing it. Distracted, she launches Google. After a quick glance at the door to be sure she’s alone, she searches ‘Clarke Griffin’.

 

Hundreds of articles and photos load on her screen and Lexa scrolls, never pausing on one for long.

 

_‘Arkadia movie three to begin filming soon, starring Clarke Griffin.’_

 

_‘Clarke Griffin seen with boyfriend Finn Collins.’_

 

_‘Clarke spends a night on the town with two best friends.’_

 

_‘Arkadia movie three: Clarke Griffin talks about on-screen and off-screen romance.’_

 

_‘Star Clarke Griffin opens up about sexuality and friendships.’_

 

_‘Clarke Griffin breaking news, photos, and videos.’_

 

_‘Finn Collins not seen by Clarke’s side: did the costars call an end to their romance?’_

 

Lexa clicks each link, scanning it quickly with a deepening frown. The last article speculates about why Clarke and Finn hadn’t been seen together in weeks and that the man would not return for the third movie. One article is dedicated to Clarke’s outfits and style, discussing in detail her different haircuts and photo-shoots. Lexa rolls her eyes, betraying her growing attraction.

 

“Lexa.”

 

She quickly exits her screen and looks up at her guest. She smiles, greeting, “Anya. How are you?”

 

“Could be better. My campaign isn’t going well,” the girl explains, taking a seat next to Lexa. “Some journalist just called me a tyrant.”

 

Lexa chuckles, “You? A tyrant?”

 

Anya shrugs, puffing up her chest in feigned confidence, “Some can’t look past my icy exterior,” she says.

 

“And into your peaceful, loving soul,” Lexa adds, lacing her voice with humor.

 

Anya balls up a piece of paper and throws it at Lexa, who dodges it with a laugh. “Hey, I fully expect the reporters to call you an angry dictator when you start running.”

 

“I am not a dictator!” Lexa exclaims. “I just like solving problems and our country has a lot of problems.”

 

“You’re so weird,” Anya mutters, causing Lexa to throw the paper back at her.

 

“I’ve learned from the best,” Lexa winks at Anya, who scoots over by her, looking at her screen.

 

“Okay, let me show you that freaking article,” Anya clicks a minimized window and Lexa’s eyes widen. With dread, she realizes she never exited her searches but rather minimized them. She lunges for the mouse, but is too late. Anya opens her mouth in a mischievous smile. She wiggles her eyebrows and shoots Lexa a knowing gaze. “You’re a little late on the Clarke train, my dear Lexa.” She winks before scrolling through the articles. “She’s everyone’s new obsession, especially with those two movies being such a hit. And she’s sexy,” Anya says.

 

Lexa groans. “I’m not obsessed. I was just intrigued.”

 

“Why? You’ve never cared about this stuff before,” Anya says, eyes not leaving the screen.

 

Lexa considers telling her friend about the meeting early that day, but decides against it. Anya would never let her live it down, especially Lexa declining a date with the star everyone loves.

 

“Oh, my god!” Anya shouts.

 

“What?” Lexa leans forward and scans the screen, the blood draining from her face. She swallows hard and shakes her head.

 

The computer displays a large picture of Clarke and Lexa talking, followed by the title, ‘Clarke has coffee date with mystery woman.’

 

Lexa moans and drops her face in her hands. Anya stays silent, continuing to read the short article filled with lies and speculations about Clarke and Lexa’s relationship. Lexa looks up, unable to stop reading over Anya’s shoulder. The article is complete with multiple photos of the pair sitting at the table and talking by the door, and even a single one of Lexa staring at a camera.

 

 _The unnamed woman claims to not know the star, despite the long, intimate talk they shared._ The article reads.

 

“Long?” Lexa says, “Intimate? We talked for maybe five minutes.”

 

“You met Clarke Griffin?” Anya questions, finally turning to Lexa. “This morning? How could you not tell me? What did you talk about?” She turns back to the computer and points at a picture of Clarke leaning across the table towards Lexa. “It does seem intimate.”

 

“We talked about my job!” Lexa says.

 

“Oh really?” Anya scrolls up and points to the middle of a paragraph. “It says here a customer overheard Clarke asking you out. On a date! What did you say?”

 

Lexa covers her face with her hands again, embarrassment burning her skin. “I said no.”

 

“What! Why?” Anya shouts.

 

“Because I wasn’t interested!”

 

Anya groans. “You’re going to have to date again at some point, Lexa. Why shouldn’t it be Clarke Griffin?”

 

“Because I don’t know her! It’s like she expected me to say yes anyway.”

 

“Well, duh. It’s Clarke fucking Griffin.”

 

“I didn’t know she existed until today.”

 

“That’s because you live under a rock,” Anya says, poking Lexa’s shoulder. “You should have said yes, Lexa.”

 

Lexa frowns. “I didn’t want to go on a date so I said no. You would be fine with that if it were anyone else, Anya.”

 

“Not true. I’ve been telling you to date again for months.”

 

“And I’ve been saying I wasn’t ready for months,” Lexa shoots back, crossing her arms. “It’s unfair to assume I’d say yes this time just because she’s famous.”

 

“The exposure could help you, Lexa. People would know your name when you finally decide to run.”

 

“I’m not dating her for the political gain. That’s selfish and awful.”

 

“That’s politics.”

 

“I said no, Anya. And that’s that.”

Lexa’s friend frowns, but let’s the subject drop. She closes the window and searches for the original article, pointing out the unkind words written about her. Lexa is thankful for the change of subject, but finds herself wishing she could keep looking at pictures of Clarke. She pokes fun at her friend, agreeing with the tyrant comment and receiving an angry glare from Anya.

 

When Anya starts to leave, she pauses in the doorway and turns back to Lexa. “You don’t have to date Clarke Griffin. But you should date someone.”

 

Lexa sighs. “Have a good day, Anya,” she says before closing the door behind her. She leans her forehead against the closed door and breaths through her nose, fighting with her own memories and desires. After catching her breath, she returns to her desk and starts working.

 

That night, she arrives home at seven p.m. and considers ordering the first Arkadia movie. Annoyed with herself, she decides against it and instead opts for dinner and a good book.

 

Clarke didn’t exist in Lexa’s world, and she shouldn’t pretend otherwise.

*              *              *

Clarke pulls her fingers through her hair and rolls her eyes. She looks at Bellamy and mimes a mouth with her fingers, mocking her mother. Bellamy stifles a laugh as Abby looks up from her computer.

 

“There’s no getting around it this time, Clarke,” she says. “You’re going to have to talk about your breakup soon. It’s been four months.”

 

Clarke shakes her head. “It’s no one’s business.”

 

“Yes, it is. When you were with Finn it was everyone’s business. It’s what sold your movie and got you on the A list.”

 

“And got my heart broken.”

 

“Publicity is everything right now, Clarke. The third movie comes out at the end of the year. You have to stay on the public’s good side.”

 

“I have a squeaky clean record, Mom. I’ll be fine.” Clarke says, turning to Bellamy with pleading eyes.

 

He shrugs, rubbing an apple against his shirt. “Not my publicist.”

 

“You’re no help,” Clarke sneers.

 

“You don’t need help, Clarke,” Abby says. “You need to open up about Finn. Play up the adultery and the heartbreak and you’ll have the media in the palm of your hands and your fans defending you through thick and thin.”

 

“Play up the heartbreak? Mom, you do realize my boyfriend of two years cheated on me and told me he never loved me, right?”

 

“Exactly. The world will turn against Finn and you’ll be front news for days.”

 

Clarke throws her hands up in exaggeration and looks at Bellamy again, desperate for backup. Bellamy walks over to her and gives her shoulder a tight squeeze.

 

“It sucks, Clarke. But your mom may have a point.”

 

Clarke glares at him and pushes his hand over her shoulder. “Traitor.”

 

He holds his hands up in surrender and takes a bit of his apple. “I’ve got your back no matter what you choose. Being the first to talk about the breakup will give you an edge, definitely. But I know the wound is still fresh.”

 

“You’ll also want to be the first with a new partner,” Abby adds, causing even Bellamy to give her a harsh stare.

 

“Mom!”

 

“I suggest your new costar. Not only is he dreamy but he’s coming from the music business. You can help him break into acting and he can help you break into music.”

 

“I don’t want to break into music,” Clarke argues.

 

“Too bad. It’s lucky Finn never made his relationship with that Raven girl public, or you’d be seen as a helpless victim.”

 

“You want me to play the victim card, Mom.”

 

Abby holds up a finger. “No, I want you to play the strong card. Your loving boyfriend stabbed you in the back and you never fell down. It hurt, but you kept pushing forward. In fact, you’ve found new love already!”

 

“No.”

 

Abby groans and stands up from her desk. She starts pacing, her hands folded in front of her. Clarke drops her head back, annoyed.

 

“Clarke,” Abby starts. “I have been doing this for five years, Clarke. I know the industry and I know you. This is our best move right now. We have to get ahead of the press. Let’s face it, Clarke. You’re predictable. You’re kind, you never do anything you’re not supposed to, you keep quiet about the fun things. I love you so much honey but you’re boring. The public doesn’t care about your hiking trips with Octavia or who’s the biggest joker on set. They care about the scandals, the parties, the boys and the heartbreak. Clarke you won’t even talk about your sexuality except alluding to it ‘not being 100% straight.’”

 

In the midst of Abby’s rant, Clark stood up and balled her fists together. Tears of anger pricked her eyes and one look at Bellamy told her that nothing her mom was saying was okay. Clarke takes a deep breath and sets her jaw before nodding.

 

“You’re right, Mom. I’m boring. The only thing about me that people care about is my dead dad, cheating ex boyfriend, and wet dreams about girls.”

 

“Clarke Griffin!”

 

Clarke storms past her mom, grabs Bellamy’s arm, and pulls him out of the room. She slams the door shut behind them and lets go of Bellamy, running to the other end of the large house.

 

“Clarke!” Bellamy calls, chasing her through the halls until they end up in her bedroom. “Clarke, I’m so sorry,” he offers, breathing hard.

 

Clarke shrugs, turning to face him. Her face is deep red and her eyes are shining with rage. “She’s right, B! I’m going to lose my fans if I’m not careful!”

 

“No, Clarke. Your fans love you because of your kind heart, not any of that other stuff.”

 

“I live in a world of scandals and drama. I don’t get to be myself and expect to thrive in this world. Maybe I should do something crazy.”

 

“Or maybe you can ignore your mom and be yourself.”

 

Clarke shakes her head and places her hands on her hips. “No. You know what? I’m going to take a breath. We all are. Me, you, Octavia, Jasper and Monty. We’re taking a break from this shit world if just for one night.”

 

“What do you mean? A vacation?”

 

“No,” Clarke grins. “Parties. Cara invited me to one next week and I say we go.”

 

“What? Those parties are known to be outrageous.”

 

“Exactly. We’re boring people, B. It’s time we do something fun. Go to a few parties with the other famous people. We can forget about all of this shit just for a bit.”

 

“How are you supposed to forget about being famous by going to a party with a bunch of famous people?”

 

“Famous people don’t care about other famous people, B! They care about having fun, getting drunk, and taking a break. It’s perfect and we are going.”        

 

“Clarke…”

 

“Bellamy Blake, did you not say you were by my side no matter what I did?”

 

Bellamy sighs and nods his head. “Yeah, I did.”

 

“Then it’s settled. The cru is going partying.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Legal Age Drinking

Lexa leans forward on her desk, resting her elbows on the top. Her full lips part as she reads the pages on the desk, the world fogging up slightly. She slips her slender fingers into her hair and scratches her scalp, squeezing her eyes shut. The graphs fanned out on her desk tell a story that makes Lexa’s head feel light and her hands heavier than lead. She drops her forehead onto the desk and groans.

 

The problem would be harder to solve than she originally thought.The budget showed more expenses then there was money. Lexa couldn’t find a place to cut spending. There were debts that needed to be paid and economics that needed to be fixed.

 

Lexa thought she fixed the problem with shallow cuts that would heal quickly with a few bruises, but because of a mistake–damn Clint–she was a few thousand dollars short.

 

A few tens of thousands.

 

Lexa leans back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling. She knows she’ll have to rework the plan, but that means large gashes that will need stitches to truly heal. And every gash will leave a scar. She shakes her head, deciding the plan is the best solution they have. All they need is a bit more money.

 

Lexa pulls up the document of expenses and highlights the necessaries. She contrasts it to the list of income, which were overwhelmingly taxes. Then she sees a small sliver of the bottom of the list. The amount was tiny compared to the others, but just enough to make her plan work.

 

If she could copy that one slice of income, then her plan would work and it would have wiggle room. 

 

Lexa stacks all the pages together and sets it to the side. She pulls up Google and starts researching the way to get the money. When she catches an idea she follows it until it disappears and another one takes it’s place. She consults the income list and builds a plan that has only a few holes in it. By six p.m., her plan is half formed and the offices outside have mostly cleared out. She gathers her folders and fills her bag before standing from her messy desk. She turns off the light and locks the door, pushing her hands in her pockets as she leaves the building. The cool air slaps her face as she walks to her car. The sun lowers in the sky, not quite reaching the horizon. Lexa winces into the glare as she drives, tapping the steering wheel along with the music playing.

 

Her phone starts singing and she leans over to grab it from the passenger seat.

 

“Hello?” she greats.

 

_ “Lexa, thank god,” _ Anya says through the receiver.  _ “You have to come over right now.” _

 

Lexa slaps on her blinker and exits, her heart racing. “Anya, what’s wrong?”

 

_ “You just have to come over!” _

 

“Anya, you’re scaring me!” Lexa yells, looking through the back window before she takes a turn. Then Lexa hears a hint of a laugh on the other end and she frowns. “What is going on?”

 

_ “Everything is okay, I promise,”  _ Anya says, soothing any fears that were racing up Lexa’s spine. “ _ I just have a surprise.” _

 

“Surprises are just lies that expect gratefulness,” Lexa answers, frowning.

 

_ “You’re the worst. Just… hurry.” _

 

“Fine. But this better be good,” Lexa says, hanging up the phone and turning into nya’s neighborhood. Soon, she’s pulling against a curb in front of a small house. She grabs her computer and heads up to the front. Before she has the chance to knock, Anya pulls open the door, grinning wide. She holds up a movie and Lexa groans. “No!” she yells, turning away from the house.

 

Anya opens the door and chases after Lexa. “Oh, come on! You have to watch it. You have to see your new girlfriend’s movie!” she says, waving a copy of ‘Arkadia’ around.

 

Lexa waves a hand in the air. “No, I don’t! I said no to her and I don’t want to watch that stupid movie.”

 

“Hey, it’s Friday night and I’m your best friend! You have to watch a cheesy movie with me!”

 

“I don’t have to do anything,” Lexa responds, unlocking her car door.

 

“Please, Lexa,” Anya says, placing a hand on the hood of her car. “I promise I’ll stop making fun of you for the rest of the week if you just watch these movies with me.”

 

“Movies? Plural?”

 

“Well, duh. We have to watch the second one, too. It’s when Clarke’s character finally kisses her love interest, played by her real life boyfriend.”

 

Lexa steps away from her car, eyes wide. “She has a boyfriend?”

 

Anya shrugs. “Well, ex. She hasn’t said anything but they haven’t been pictured together in months and he’s not going to be in the next movie. It’s looking like they broke up.”

 

“Poor Clarke.”

 

“Oh, boohoo. Now it seems she’s ready to get her gay on.”

 

“That’s highly offensive, Anya.”

 

The other girl rolls her eyes and reaches over, closing Lexa’s door. “I’ll make it up to you by watching two record breaking movies on one Friday night.”

 

“You’re the one that wants to watch the movies. Not me,” Lexa reminds her friend. 

 

“Okay, then I’ll extend my ‘no making fun of Lexa’ time period to all of next week, too!”

 

Groaning, Lexa nods. “You promise?”

 

“Promise.”

 

Rolling her eyes, she follows Anya back into her house. She closes and locks her friends door behind them and takes a seat on the far side of the old couch while Anya leaves for the kitchen.

 

Lexa pulls a blanket out of a basket nearby and drags it over her chest and through between her fingers. “You better have some killer snacks prepared,” she calls.

 

Anya emerges from the kitchen holding to large bowls. She climbs next to Lexa and hands the smaller bowl.

 

Lexa looks down at the powdery chocolate snack in the bowl and grins, picking up a piece and dropping it in her mouth. “Puppy chow is my air,” she says, the powder sugar covering her fingers.

 

“You’re a loser,” Anya mutters through a mouthful of popcorn. She picks up a remote and wags it in the air in front of Lexa’s face, winking. “Alright,” she points the remote to the screen and clicks a button. “Time to get your panties blown off.”

 

Lexa slaps Anya’s shoulder and grabs a handful of popcorn. “Blow ‘em off.”

 

The title scene plays on the T.V., volume loud. Lexa watches, her ankles pulled up onto the couch and her fingers sorting through the puppy chow for the best pieces. The movie becomes more interesting than Lexa expected and soon she finds she can’t tear her eyes off the screen.

 

That is, until Clarke starts taking her clothes off. Her character has to bathe in a river and the filming spends a healthy amount of time appreciating her more pleasing features.

 

Lexa looks away.

 

When she looks back, Clarke is joined by the man she previously presumed to be her enemy. The man confesses that he was acting under influence and truly wants to help Clarke. Lexa rolls her eyes as the boy asks if he can join Clarke in the river. Clarke hesitantly agrees and the man starts to undress.

 

His hair is shoulder length and a light brown like his eyes. His lips are thin and his face is soft, despite his angry glare. Lexa groans at the slow way he undresses and how Clarke watches him with hungry eyes.

 

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Lexa announces, handing her bowl over to Anya.

 

Anya chuckles, but says nothing as Lexa leaves the room. In the bathroom, Lexa stares into the mirror. Her pupils are blown and long light brown hair is pulled back in a bun that seems to be coming loose. Lexa rubs her eyes and splashes water on her face, causing her mascara to run down her cheeks. Lexa pulls a rag off the rack and scrubs the black makeup until her cheeks are clean and pink. Taking a breath, she re-joins Anya in the living room.

 

“Cold water help the nerves?” Anya asks.

 

“You said you weren’t going to tease anymore.”

 

“You’re right,” Anya hands the bowl back to Lexa as she takes her seat. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Hey, I wanted to run an idea past you.”

 

Anya picks up the remote and pauses, turning to face Lexa.

 

“You don’t have to pause it.”

 

Anya raises an eyebrow.

 

“Okay, fine. I came up with a plan to fix the budget crisis at work…”

 

“But.”

 

Lexa signs and looks down at her hands. She scrapes up a bit of dried chocolate and offers a grin that barely forms. “But the problem is I’m a few thousand short for the plan to really work.”

 

“That’s the exact opposite of a budget fix.”

 

“No! The majority of it is fixed but to get it working I just need a small income. I did some research and I think I have an idea,” Lexa says, digging through her snacks. “An event. Like a festival or something. I could get the departments involved saying they won’t be cut as much if the event goes well. Plenty of rich people in this town want to make their brand look good by helping these nonprofit events.”

 

“For the government?” Anya asks, raising her eyebrows.

 

Lexa groans falling back on the couch. She stares up at the ceiling and bites her lip. “It’s a small idea but it’s an idea. And if it works it’s the best fix we have. Anya, everyone is looking for contestants who are willing to try the unconventional fixes.”

 

Anya tilts her head to the side and purses her lips out. “Maybe.”

 

“I’d need your help, Anya.

 

The older woman nods and returns to her previous position on the couch. She picks up the remote and shrugs. “You know I’ll help you. But right now it’s ‘Arkadia’ time.”

 

Lexa rolls her eyes and looks at the T.V., not arguing as the movie starts playing again, displaying Clarke’s beat up face.

 

*       *       *

 

Clarke sits in the front seat of Bellamy’s car, singing along to the radio. She fought with Wallace and the head of her security for thirty minutes before they agreed to let her go with Bellamy to the airport alone. She had to promise that no one would say her name, she wouldn’t make herself known, and she would wear a disguise. But by ‘disguise’ she meant a baseball cap and a pair of cheap sunglasses. It also helped that Bellamy has been in the security business for over seven years.

 

When they arrive at the airport, Clarke opens her own door and pulls on a heavy coat. Bellamy doesn’t bother with a disguise, banking on the fact that no one will notice him. He pulls Clarke into his side, laughing at her squeal.

 

“Are you ready for your best friend to be home, Ms. Smith?” he asks.

 

Clarke shoves him away and rolls her eyes. “Of course. Without her, dealing with you is almost impossible.”

 

“I’m touched.”

 

The pair walks into the airport, following the signs to baggage claim. When they arrive, Clarke chooses a spot in the side of the room to stand while they wait. She leans against the wall while Bellamy leaves to get three cups of coffee. He hands one off to Clarke bounces on his feet, staring at the door.

 

Clarke watches him with a small smile. Growing up, Bellamy became her brother. After her parents moved their family to California almost twenty years ago, the Blake’s took Clarke in as one of their own.

 

Bellamy smiles wide and Clarke follows his sightline to find Octavia walking towards them.

 

“Octavia!” Clarke shouts. She places her coffee cup down and runs across the room, throwing her arms around Octavia’s neck. Her friend yelps, dropping her bag before laughing, squeezing Clarke’s waist.

 

“Hey, Clarke,” Octavia greets.

 

“Oh, it’s Ms. Smith,” Bellamy says, walking up behind them.

 

Octavia pulls away from Clarke and accepts Bellamy’s hug. Her brother picks her up off the ground, causing her to squeal and hit his back. “Put me down!” Octavia orders.

 

Bellamy does as he’s told and picks Octavia’s bag, throwing it over his shoulder. “Damn, O,” he says. “You were gone for three months, how do you only take one backpack?”

 

Octavia shrugs. “It’s a big backpack.”

 

Clarke sighs and drapes her arm over Octavia’s shoulder, turning her toward the exit. “I’m so jealous of you.”

 

“Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be in movies.”

 

“Clarke met a girl,” Bellamy says, causing Clarke to turn and hit his chest, scowling.

 

“Bellamy!”

 

Octavia jumps in front of Clarke and grabs her shoulders. “What?” she exclaims. “I must know everything!”

 

Clarke shrugs. “It’s nothing. She was just a girl I met in a coffee shop.”

 

“Name? Age? Is she hot? Did you ask her out?”

 

“Lexa. I don’t know, probably late twenties. Very. Yes.”

 

Octavia widens her eyes. “You asked her out? What did she say?”

 

“Our Clarke got rejected,” Bellamy answers, leading the girls back towards the exit.

 

“Oooh,” Octavia coos. “Who would ever say no to America’s sweetheart?”

 

“I don’t think I’m America’s sweetheart,” Clarke says.

 

“Still. Damn, Clarke. Sorry she said no. Did she seem interested at all?”

 

Clarke frowns. “Well she doesn’t want to go out again so I’m going to say no.”

 

“Fair enough,” Octavia says, shrugging.

 

“Clarke!” Someone calls from behind them, causing Clarke’s neck burn and her heartbeat to speed up. She looks up at Bellamy with pleading eyes and he turns around.

 

“Three teenage girls,” he says, voice low. “Not a threat, definitely knows it’s you. Coming over here.”

 

Clarke shoots an apologetic glance at Octavia before turning to greet the girls. She smiles, her lips tight.

 

“Clarke Griffin! I’m Ashley. I’m a huge fan. I love  _ Arkadia _ . You’re so talented,” one of the girls says.

 

“Thank you,” Clarke answers.

 

“I’m Emily,” another says, stepping forward. “Do you mind signing my backpack?”

 

“Sure,” Clarke says, accepting the bag. Emily hands her a marker and Clarke scribbles out.  _ Stay strong, Emily. Love, Clarke.  _ She looks at the signature and shrugs, deeming it good enough. She hands the bag back and turns to the last girl expectantly.

 

“Lilly,” she says, holding out her hand.

 

Clarke shakes her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Lilly.”

 

“I was wondering…” Lilly starts, looking down at her feet. “Are you still with Finn Collins?”

 

Clarke blinks at the girl, her blood feeling cold.

 

“Okay, girls. It’s time we get going,” Bellamy says, stepping in front of Clarke.

 

Clarke shakes her head and reaches out her hand, grabbing Bellamy’s arm. “It’s okay, B.” He looks at her frowning but she smiles, communicating that she’s okay. He steps back apprehensively. Clarke looks back at the girls and takes a breath. “Unfortunately, I’m not,” she answers.

 

Lilly frowns. “Why? You guys were so cute.”

 

“It just wasn’t working,” Clarke answers. “That happens sometimes. But it’s okay. We’re both moving on.”

 

“What does that mean?” Emily asks. “You have a new boyfriend?”

 

Clarke shakes her head. “No.” Clarke takes a breath, looking back at Octavia who bites her lip, shrugging. “I have my eye on a girl, though.” Clarke answers.

 

The girls sneer. “A girl? To date?” Ashley says.

 

“Yes. Listen, girls, I really have to go but it was nice meeting you. Would you like to take a picture before I go?”

 

They all perk up, nodding quickly. Ashley hands Octavia her phone and steps back. Clarke positions herself between the girls and smiles at the camera, her mind swarming with fog. When they’re done, Clarke notices they’ve started to gather attention. Other people are getting closer and Clarke looks to Bellamy as if to tell him she’s done. He nods and grabs her waist, guiding her out.

 

“I’m so sorry guys,” Clarke apologizes after climbing into the back seat of the car. 

 

“Please, Clarke,” Octavia says, waving her hand in the air. “It’s fine. I think we’re used to it by now.”

 

Bellamy laughs. “You’re getting your own little following now, Octavia.”

 

Octavia rolls her eyes. “Speaking of. Clarke, your mom asked me if she could represent me the other day.” 

 

Clarke frowns. “What for?”

 

“Modeling, I guess. She thinks I would be a face of athletic brands. I told her I’d think about it.”

 

“You’re actually considering it, O?” Bellamy says. “Do you think you’d enjoy that?”

 

Octavia shrugs. “It’s an income. And I would still get to travel it would just be for work. I don’t know. I already understand the industry.”

 

“But you love photography.” Clarke says.

 

“Yeah, but it’s not paying the bills like I was hoping. I could still do photography, I would just be on the other side of the camera every once and a while.”

 

“Well you know we will support you, whatever you do,” Bellamy says, squeezing Octavia’s knee.

 

“Of course we will,” Clarke agrees.

 

“Thanks, guys.”

 

“And you could do some much needed networking at the party this weekend!” Clarke says, winking at Octavia.

 

“What party?”

 

“Clarke thinks she’s boring,” Bellamy answers.

 

“Is that why you told those girls about Lexa?”

 

“I did not tell them about Lexa!” Clarke argues. “But, yes. What could hurt about going to a couple of parties? I could use the publicity.”

 

“You’re not boring, Clarke. You’re just not wild.”

 

“That’s why I said,” Bellamy says. “It’s no use. She’s made up her mind.”

 

Clarke nods. “Yes, I have. And the five of us are going to Cara’s party this Friday night and we are going to have fun!”

 

“There’s no getting out of this one, is there?” Octavia asks.

 

Clarke shakes her head and smiles, causing Octavia to groan. For the rest of the drive, Octavia talks about her backpacking trip. She raves about some man she met halfway through, much to Bellamy’s horror. She shows Clarke pictures of the guy, Lincoln, and says they plan on keeping in touch. The man is tall, muscular, and tan. He’s covered in tattoos and is bald. Octavia swipes past one picture of the too of them kissing and the other girl turns read, biting her lip. Clarke grins, fighting the jealousy rising in her gut.

 

When they get home, Clarke is instantly dragged off to an interview. Her mom reminds her to open up about Finn, and Clarke sneers. When the interview asks, because they always do, Clarke considers telling him everything, but finds she can’t. The words don’t form and she stutters before changing the subject.

 

When she goes home, she finds Octavia passed out in her room. Finding her best friend back home after months of travels pulls a smile on Clarke’s lips. She heads to her own room and struggles to fall asleep.

 

Her dreams visit her that night in forms of green eyes and soft lips. Lexa’s voice becomes the soundtrack of her dreams and her touch becomes the desire of her heart.

 

Soon, Friday rolls around and Clarke is sitting cross legged in front of a mirror applying makeup.

 

 

“Don’t you have a whole team that does your makeup for you?” Octavia asks, hanging upside on Clarke’s bed. Her thick brown hair hangs down, draping against the floor.

 

Clarke rolls her eyes, looking at her friend through the mirror. “For events. Not for my own social events.”

 

“Clarke, are you sure you want to go tonight?”

 

Clarke takes a deep breath, dipping her brush in eye shadow. “Yes. If not to prove a point, to just have fun. Octavia, we’ve lived in L.A. for two years and never really experienced a Hollywood party.”

 

“I hold my right to leave whenever I want.”

 

Clarke chuckles. “Just don’t leave without letting me know.”

 

“Are Jasper and Monty coming?” Octavia asks, climbing off the bed. She stands behind Clarke, looking at the top of the mirror as she begins braiding small strands of her hair.

 

“Yeah. They’re going to pick us three up here in an hour.”

 

Octavia looks at the small watch on her wrist. “It’s already nine!”

 

Clarke shrugs and inspects the finished product. “I guess famous people like to party late.”

 

Octavia laughs and accepts a curling iron Clarke hands up to her. She transforms Clarke’s wavy hair into large curls expertly. The girls then pull on their outfits, Clarke a red dress and Octavia black jeans and a white shirt.

 

When Monty drives up in a large black car, Clarke and Octavia are dressed up and already one drink in each. Bellamy follows them out to the car and rolls his eyes at Jasper hanging out the passenger window.

 

“What’s up, bitches!” he yells, his breath reeking of weed.

 

Clarke laughs. “Hey, boys!”

 

“M’ lady,” Monty greets, nodding at them as they climb in the back seat.

 

“Why are we friends with them?” Octavia asks, smiling as Monty drives off.

 

“Because without us, you would never have any fun,” Jasper answers.

 

Octavia glares at him. “I just got back from a three month backpacking trip through Europe and the Alps.”

 

Clarke rolls her eyes as the pair starts arguing. She stares out the window, watching Hollywood lights fly past. They pass a coffee shop that pulls Clarke into a memory from a week prior and she relishes in it, wishing she could relive the moment.

 

“Hey guys,” she says, interrupting the argument. “How creepy is it to look someone’s contact information up?”

 

Jasper frowns at her. “Like someone you don’t know?”

 

“Someone I’ve only met once.”

 

“Do you know their name?” Clarke nods. “Then not too creepy,” Jasper says. “Especially if you think they would receive the contact well.”

 

Bellamy scoffs and Clarke shoots him a glare, letting the conversation die. Before long, Monty is pulling the car up outside a gate. He rolls down the window and smiles at a large man.

 

“Hi! We are here for the party,” he says.

 

“And you are?” the man demands, crossing his arms.

 

Clarke leans up in the car and looks out the window. “Clarke Griffin and guests.”

 

The man nods at her and presses a button, which opens the gate. “Enjoy, Ms. Griffin.”

 

Monty rolls up the window and pulls through the gate. Dozens of cars line the road and Monty parks as soon as he sees a free spot. Clarke hooks her arm through Octavia’s as they walk towards the house, the music getting louder as they do. When they arrive at the front of the party at 10:30 p.m., the party is in full rage.

 

“Oh, my god! That’s Gigi Hadid!” Jasper gasps.

 

“Could you be any gayer?” Monty teases.

 

“Offensive!” Jasper shoots back.

 

“True!”

 

Jasper rolls his eyes and leaves the group, walking straight up to Gigi. Monty watches with wide eyes as Gigi gives Jasper a hug, smiling as they talk.

 

“Remind me why we’ve never been to one of these before,” Monty says before following his friend.

 

“I need a drink,” Clarke mutters, pulling Octavia into the house. Bellamy follows from close behind, his limbs stiff as he walks. He knows the edges of the party are covered in security, but his senses are heightened despite the knowledge of safety. 

 

“Clarke!” Someone calls from the side of the room. Clarke turns to see Cara smiling at her. She bounds up to Clarke and throws her arms around Clarke’s neck. “I’m so glad you made it,” she said.

 

“Of course! Thank you for inviting me.”

 

“Well, duh.  I’m excited to work with you next year.”

 

“Me, too!”

 

Cara looks back Clarke at Octavia and grins. “Who’s this?”

 

Clarke pulls Octavia forward and introduces the two. They get along well, with Octavia asking Cara all kinds of questions about the modeling industry. Cara doesn’t glorify it, telling Octavia all the annoying parts of the life.

 

“But in the end I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Well, except maybe acting,” Cara says, laughing. “I love acting. You know Clarke and I are going costar in a movie together?”

 

Octavia looks back at Clarke with wide eyes. “I did not!”

 

“I’m very excited. Clarke is raved about between producers. Apparently she’s a saint on set.”

 

“Oh, come on,” Clarke says, her cheeks heating up.

 

“Don’t sell yourself short!” Cara exclaims.

 

“Thank you, Cara.”

 

She smiles at Clarke before turning her attention back to Octavia. Clarke takes the moment to slip away and further into the party. She’s pushing through the crowds of famous before she notices her shadow.

 

“You don’t have to follow me, B,” Clarke says.

 

“It makes me more comfortable.”

 

Clarke stops and turns to her friend, hands on her hips. “It’s a party! Take a break from working and have a little fun. Introduce yourself to some models.”

 

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “No thanks.”

 

Clarke groans. “Will you at least go get me something to drink?”

 

Bellamy obliges, turning away. Clarke finds someone she knows and starts a conversation until Bellamy finds her again with two drinks in hand. He sips one and she downs the other, a burning feeling of uncertainty climbing up her neck. Bellamy finds someone he knows from the set of ‘Arkadia’ and disappears to talk to them. Clarke ventures out of the house and finds Jasper and Monty again, both sitting at the edge of a pool with three other guys who seem to have brought a large water bong. Clarke rolls her eyes at them and declines their opportunity to join in. Instead, she gets another drink.

 

Two hours and almost six drinks later, Clarke has numbed the anxious feelings and found a steady rhythm at the party. She alternates from dancing, playing games, and talking to people. By midnight she’s sitting on the back of a couch talking to a group of actors when she sees a familiar face on the other side of the room.

 

Angry, reckless, and drunk, Clarke stands from the couch and makes her way across the party.

 

“Raven,” Clarke hisses.

 

The model looks up at Clarke, her eyes widening in shock. “Clarke… uh…”

 

“Never thought you’d have to face me?” Clarke asks, aware of the slur in her words.

 

“Listen… Clarke,”

 

“No!” Clarke shouts. “You listen. Did you think it was okay? You had to know he was my boyfriend.”

 

“I didn’t know!”

 

“How could you not know?” Their voices were steadily growing in volume. Somewhere in her mind Clarke knew she should walk away. They would start gaining attention that Clarke didn’t want. Even without paparazzi, there were still too many people around. And she knew she was far too drunk to be having an intelligent conversation.

 

“He told me it was a fake relationship – for the movie’s publicity!”

 

“Bullshit.”

 

“Clarke, I never would have–”

 

“Never would have slept with my boyfriend? Well you already did and now the world wants me to sell you two out!”

 

Raven looks around the room, noticing multiple phones pointed in their direction. She steps forward and places a hand on Clarke’s shoulder, lowering her voice. “Clarke, we should–”

 

Clarke slaps away Raven’s hand. “Don’t touch me! You can fuck my boyfriend and then try to be my friend! It doesn’t work like that.”

 

“Clarke!” Octavia yells, pushing herself through the crowd. She grabs Clarke’s shoulders and turns her away from Raven. “We need to go.”

 

“No! It’s all Raven’s fault!”

 

“Now, Clarke,” Bellamy says, walking up behind Octavia. The sight of Bellamy’s stern face sobers Clarke up enough for her to think sensibly for a fleeting moment. She nods and allows Octavia to guide her out of the room. No one tries to stop them as they leave the party. Octavia finds Jasper and Monty while Bellamy helps Clarke to the car.         

 

She starts crying on the walk and leans into Bellamy’s side. When they reach the car, paparazzi shout at them from the other side of the fence. Bellamy turns Clarke away but not before she looks straight at the cameras, eyes read and cheeks wet with tears. She climbs in the front seat and slouches back, breathing hard. The other three file in, silent for the entire drive home. 


	4. Chapter 4

_ Screeching. Yelling. Crying. Sirens. Orders. Crying. Crying. Crying. _

_Silence._

“NO!” Lexa screams, shooting up in bed. She takes deep breaths, her eyes wide open. She shutters at the sweat slicking her skin. She jumps out of bed and pulls the sweat-covered sheets off, balling them up. Still shaking from the nightmare, Lexa shoves the sheets in the washing machine. She then looks up at the clock, groaning at the early hour of 3:21 A.M.

“Fuck…” she mutters, leaning against the whirring machine. She shakes her head and buries her fingers in her tangled brown hair.

Instead of trying to find sleep again, Lexa spreads out on her living room floor. She organizes her papers and starts the planning on the festival. She decides on three options for dates, all in the next month, and creates a long list of people she thinks will help. She crafts emails for every department head, starting with the parks and recreation department, hoping for a free venue. She saves all the emails that give her permission to move forward.  She requests security from the police department and an hour of free buses to take people to the venue from the transportation department. She knows both are far reaches, but ask for a lower price than you’re willing to pay, right? 

She emails the education department with the news, asking if they’d be willing to get the event’s information out to the schools. She delegates tasks to her team, getting the boys to be in charge of food and decorations for the event. She tells another to look for entertainment and a third for games. When she finally feels tired and hungry, the clock reads 11 A.M.

Groaning, Lexa stands and stretches, heading to her kitchen when her phone starts to ring.

Anya’s name flashes and Lexa answers, propping the phone between her ear and shoulder. “Yeah?”

_“I have a beyond brilliant idea for your festival.”_

Lexa frowns, apprehension filling her gut. “And?”

_“You want this thing to succeed, right?”_

“Of course.”

_“Then you have to promise me you’ll consider the idea.”_

“What is it, Anya?” Lexa asks, breaking three eggs into a bowl.

_“Clarke Griffin.”_

“What?” Lexa shouts, throwing the shells in the compost bin.

_“I bet you could get her to come pro-bono. She could do a panel or meet and greet. The attendance would skyrocket if you got a celebrity that well known there.”_

“I don’t even know her, Anya!”

_“You know her well enough! She obviously likes you. If you asked, I bet you ten thousand dollars she would say yes!”_

“How would I get ahold of her?”

Anya sighs on the other end of the phone and Lexa can imagine her rolling her eyes.  _ “You expect me to do everything for you, Lex? Figure it out! If you want this plan to work, I suggest you ask her. Now I have to go.” _

Before Lexa has the chance to respond, Anya hangs up.

Lexa drops her phone on the counter and finishes cooking her omelet. She takes the breakfast to her couch, turning on the T.V. She gasps when a video of Clarke pops up on her screen.

The video is shaky, taken obviously from an IPhone. Clarke’s face is bright read and tears are streaming down her cheeks, though she doesn’t seem bothered by them. Another girl, tall, tan, and beautiful, stands in front of Clarke, seemingly shocked by the exchange. Clarke shoves lightly at the other girl, swaying after she does. She seems drunk, and Lexa suddenly feels the overwhelming desire to wrap her in a blanket and hide her from the world.

“Bullshit,” Clarke says, her voice almost to low to hear. Subtitles have been added to the poor quality video for the ease of watchers.

“Clarke, I never would have–” the other girl says.

“Never would have slept with my boyfriend? Well you already did and now the world wants me to sell you two out!”

Lexa’s breath hitches at Clarke’s words. She read about Clarke’s ex boyfriend, Finn or something, but she didn’t see anywhere that he cheated on her. Lexa’s hands curl into fists, instant anger towards the man. Clarke yells with devastation.

The video shakes wildly and Lexa leans forward, straining to see what happens. It faces the floor for a second and Lexa misses what happens before it moves up again, showing Clarke push at the other girl’s hands.

“Don’t touch me! You can f*** my boyfriend and then try to be my friend! It doesn’t work like that.” Clarke screams. The curse word is bleeped out for the television and the video abruptly ends to reveal an older woman’s face.

“Well there you have it, folks!” she says. “A drunk Clarke Griffin attacked the model, Raven Reyes, and accused her of sleeping with the actress’s ex boyfriend, Finn Collins. So far, none of the mentioned has come forward about the incident to either confirm or deny the story. One anonymous party goer did say that Reyes was seen crying later that day and that Clarke was taken away by her handsome bodyguard. The pair–”

The words cut off as Lexa changes the station, her skin crawling. She breathes hard, chasing the sight of Clarke screaming through tears. The girl in that video seemed to be a completely different person than the one Lexa met at the coffee shop just a week ago. She seemed scared, broken, and tired, not confident, caring, and happy. Lexa frowns and turns off the T.V., reaching for her coat.

She needed a cup of coffee and to forget about that face.

 

*       *       *

 

“That’s not exactly what I meant by ‘talk about the breakup’,” Abby says, pushing a cook out of the way. “Chop the sweet potatoes smaller,” she says, making an example of a slice. The cook nods and Clarke rolls her eyes.

“They know what they’re doing, Mom.”

“You obviously don’t,” Abby responds, leaving the kitchen. Clarke spins in her seat to watch Abby pick up a remote and point it toward the T.V. “Or if you’ve forgotten what the headlines of the day are,” she says, turning on the screen. An image of Clarke’s crying face staring out at the paparazzi as Bellamy ushers her into the car flashes across the screen. “Also not what I mean about losing the boring act. This isn’t interesting, this is just stupid.”

Clarke groans, dropping her head back. “I didn’t do it because you told me too. I just wanted something different.”

Abby turns and frowns at her daughter. “That’s exactly what I told you to do.”

Clarke jumps off the chair and rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I’ve got to go film.”

“No, I cancelled your time on set today.”

“What?” Clarke shouts. “You can’t do that! I have to film.”

Abby shrugs. “They can film the scenes you’re not in.”

“I’m in all of them.”

“Then they can use the time to edit or something. Look, Clarke, you spent last night getting hammered and making a fool of yourself. You need to lay low today. Especially since now you look like the idiot in this situation, not Raven. She comes across as a patient angel.”

“She had an affair with my boyfriend!” Clarke spits.

“Doesn’t matter. Look, we are in damage control mode now. I’m setting up an interview with you tomorrow night. And you will talk about what happened or so help me–”

“Whatever, Mom,” Clarke mutters, leaving the room. Abby shouts at her but Clarke ignores her, opting instead to lock herself in her bedroom. She paces, pulling her fingers through her hair. Her head thuds with pain and her limbs feel weak. She pulls open a drawer in her bathroom and fishes out three Advils, swallowing them dry. Wincing, she picks up her phone and dials Octavia’s number.

_“Clarke! Are you okay?”_

Clarke shrugs and heads back to her room, pulling black pants out of her closet. “Abby is on a rampage and my head hurts but other than that, I’m fine.”

_“But last night…”_

“Look, O, I know I was a complete idiot and I’m sorry, but I really just want to forget what happened.”

There’s silence on the other end until Octavia sighs. _“The world won’t soon forget, Clarke. A dozen people at the party got what happened recorded.”_

“I know… But so what? People were bound to find out what happened eventually.”

_“Surprisingly enough, the focus seems to be on your lack of sobriety, not the actual things you were saying.”_

Clarke groans and pulls her hand down her face. “I want to go out for coffee. Are you and Bellamy up for it? He doesn’t have to be the guard, I can get Patrick or someone to come.”

_“Yeah, of course. Where do you want to go?”_

Clarke imagines a pair of green eyes and grins. “I was thinking Polis across town.”

_“Cool. We can meet you there in an hour?”_

“Perfect. See you then.”

Clarke takes a breath and pulls on the black outfit she put together, tapping the tips of her fingers together. She bites her lip and heads to the bathroom to apply a fresh coat of mascara. Starring in the mirror, she frowns at the pale skin and tired eyes looking back at her.

With one last prayer that Lexa will be at her favorite coffee shop, Clarke leaves the room.


	5. Chapter 5

“Iced latte, please,” Lexa orders, handing the new worker behind the counter a crisp five dollar bill.

“This one is on me,” comes a familiar voice behind Lexa.

Lexa spins around to see Clarke smiling at her. “Clarke, I…” Lexa looks for a crowd of fans and paparazzi but sees nothing. The blonde girl wears a black hoodie, probably meant to hide her from any peering eyes. “You don’t have to do that.”

Clarke shrugs. “I know.”

Lexa swallows hard, feeling Clarke’s gaze slowly pierce through her well-built wall. “How are you?” she mutters, struggling through the awkward tension.

“I can tell by the way you ask that you’ve been watching the news.”

Lexa sucks in a breath and nods. “I caught a glimpse of it.”

“In all honesty?” Clarke says, scoffing. “I’m an idiot.”

Lexa frown. “What? No, you’re not.”

“I shouldn’t have…”

“Clarke,” Lexa says, stepping forward. “You were hurting, betrayed. It’s only natural that you’d react somehow. The fact that people seem entitled to watch and judge your every move doesn’t make you the idiot.”

Clarke laughs and shakes her head, rubbing the back of her neck. “It does mean I have to think more about my actions.”

A ghost of pain slides over Lexa’s face and she steps back, grabbing her coffee from the counter. “We all do. Actions have consequences.”

“Lexa–”

“Hey!” A girl says, interrupting their conversation. Clarke turns around and pulls her into a hug.

“Hey, O,” Clarke greets. The pair then turn to Lexa, the stranger’s eyebrow raised. “Octavia, this is Lexa.”

“Nice to meet you,” Octavia says, holding her hand out, seeming weary of Lexa.          Lexa nods gently and accepts the handshake. “And you. Are you an actress as well?”

Octavia laughs. “No, just Clarke’s old friend. And you?” she asks the question obviously already knowing the answer.

Lexa frowns and straightens her back. “I’m a frequent visitor of this coffee shop,” she says, giving Clarke a side-glance. The actress groans slightly and rubs her fingers along her eyebrows in quiet exasperation.

Octavia nods, pleased with Lexa’s answer, and steps to the front counter to order. Clarke watches her go before turning back to Lexa with soft eyes.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with all of that,” Lexa says.

“Octavia?”

Lexa laughs. “No, the press. The judgment.”

“You learn to deal with it. It’s not awful, just… annoying. Maybe you’ll understand one day when you run for office.”

Lexa smiles, eyes widening at the surprise that Clarke remembered from their first meeting. “Maybe. But for now…”

Clarke nods, understanding before Lexa has to explain. “I know. It’s not for everyone.” Clarke looks at Lexa, blue eyes shining. “Can I at least give you my number? In case you ever need anything or want to hang out?”

Lexa mulls over the question for a moment before deciding there would be little harm in accepting. She nods and hands her phone over to Clarke, who inputs the digits before returning it. “Don’t let them tell you how you should feel.”

“I’ll try not to.”

Lexa smiles and holds up the cup. “Thanks for the coffee,” she says before walking past Clarke and to her car. The memory of Anya’s idea sticks in her mind, but she knows she’d never be able to ask Clarke for such a huge favor. Not with all she already has to deal with.

*       *       *

                       “Why would she cancel your time on set?” Bellamy exclaims, settling in a chair next to Octavia. “How would that help at all?”

“At this point, I don’t know if she’s even trying to help,” Clarke says, rubbing the side of her head. She sighs and takes a long sip of her tea.

“Well maybe…” Octavia starts. She hesitates before taking a breath and pushing forward, gripping her cup hard. “Abby never grieved. I know it’s been awhile since Jake, but she never just stopped life and took a moment to cry.”

Clarke tilts her head. “What do you mean?”

“She and Jake shared the responsibility of being your manager, but he was gone before your career took off and she threw herself into her work. Look, Clarke, I’m not trying to excuse Abby but…”

Clarke takes a deep breath and nods. “But I didn’t just lose my dad. She lost her husband.”

Octavia nods.

“Maybe you should just rest today,” Bellamy offers.

Clarke shakes her head, furrowing her eyebrows. “No, I can’t just lie around and… wallow. If I can’t be on set then I’ll do something else productive.” Clarke looks at the table as she thinks until an idea spawns. She asks Bellamy to make a call, who readily agrees, and pulls out her phone to text her mom.

_I left the house and I’ll be back later but I promise I’ll stay under the radar._

Her mom texts back almost instantly but Clarke doesn’t read it, instead placing her phone in her bag. Bellamy and Octavia follow Clarke to the car. The drive is long, almost all the way across town, and gives Clarke plenty of time to lean against the window and let her mind wander.         

_Don’t let them tell you how to feel._ Lexa’s words echo in Clarke’s mind and she can’t help but wonder the truth in it. People tell you how to feel from the moment you’re born. Don’t cry, smile more, be grateful… She shakes her head, sighing. She didn’t know Lexa, despite how much she wanted to, so she shouldn’t be allowing the woman to have so much power over her thoughts.

“We’re here!” Bellamy says.

“We’re glad you decided to stop by,” a man greets Clarke as she walks to the front door. “You know the way to your recording studio, but can we get you anything? Tea, perhaps?”

Clarke smiles and shakes her head. “Thank you, Terrence, but we’re fine. We won’t be here long. I just wanted to practice.”

Terrence nods and leads them into the old building. The music inside was loud, but Clarke knows as soon as you enter a studio, everything else shuts out and you’re left alone with the music.

She’d fought the whole ‘singing career’ at first, but after the first time she finished a recording session, she realized how precious the time was. She wasn’t supposed to go often, as her album is supposed to be a secret from her fans, but she couldn’t fight the idea that an hour or two in the studio would clean her mind.

“Hey, O,” she says, closing the door to the studio behind her. It was just the two girls and one of the workers, Bellamy deciding to go to the attached café for a snack and some time to read.

“Yeah?”

“You should sing with me.”

Octavia laughs. “I don’t think so.”

“Come on. Just a couple minutes? I promise, it’ll be worth it. No one is going to hear it, anyway.”

Octavia pauses but in the end, agrees to experiment in the studio. They walk in and the worker closes the door between them and the sound booth.  

“Here, you take this microphone,” Clarke says, pointing to the closest area. The microphones are round and thin with headphones sitting on the table. Clarke hands one to Octavia and wraps one around her neck. She moves to her own microphone and smiles noticing her sheet music has already been laid out, ready for her visit. “Sing whenever you want. None of this really matters,” Clarke says. Octavia nods and Clarke pulls on the headphones “Alright, Justin!” she says, this time directed at the microphone.

Justin nods from behind the glass and a slow beat immediately starts playing in Clarke’s ears.

It takes almost half the song before Octavia joins in, but when she does, she sways her hips as she sings, a smile forming quickly.

The sing for over an hour before Octavia calls it quits and joins her brother in the café. Clarke continues on by herself, her throat growing sore and sweat forming on the back of her throat, despite the cool air-conditioning blowing into the room. Even if she never meant to pursue the profession, the act itself still holds a part in her heart she didn’t expect. She sings with her eyes squeezing shut, remembering long car with her dad, the radio turned up loed and the windows rolled down. Neither one of them ever pretended to be excellent singers, that wasn’t the point. They would simply belt out the words with as much force as possible, not caring about what people might think.

Clarke smiles now, thinking of those precious moments. A small tear escapes the corner of her eye and she swallows a lump in her throat, fighting the emotion. 

When she’s finally done, she takes a deep breath, the air seemingly cleaner than it was when she woke up that morning. 


End file.
